


Unacceptable

by Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Dub-con spanking, Eventual Smut, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus
Summary: Olivia isn't thrilled with Amanda's behavior in 'Accredo'.The first line of the fic is from canon but everything after that is not, though there are still spoilers for 20x05 'Accredo'.
Relationships: Olivia Benson/Amanda Rollins
Kudos: 33





	Unacceptable

“Your behavior was… unacceptable.”

Amanda thought she’d been prepared for any words that could come out of the lieutenant’s mouth. And she would have been prepared for any words that came out of the lieutenant’s mouth, except those. A shiver of dread snaked up her spine and she turned to look at Liv, but Liv was facing the coffee machine. “But… I’m pregnant,” she said plaintively.

Olivia took her time filling her coffee cup before turning to face Amanda. “If you’re not too pregnant to assault a suspect then you’re not too pregnant to deal with the fallout. My office, now.”

Amanda’s heart tried to drop into her stomach. “Can I finish my salad?” she attempted to ask casually.

“You can finish your salad in my office,” Olivia replied, heading out of the break room. “Now, Rollins.”

“Fuck,” Amanda cursed when she was alone in the room. Her heart wasn’t going to move out of her stomach any time soon. That feeling of dread made her bones go heavy and she almost couldn’t make herself stand up. She finally got to her feet, her hands shaking, sweat pricking the back of her neck as she picked up her salad and forced herself into motion toward the lieutenant’s office. She wasn’t hungry anymore; the salad was only coming along as a blessed stall tactic.

She couldn’t believe she’d been stupid enough to do something to hit this hard on Olivia’s radar. Her stomach twisted harder with each step she took and by the time she reached Liv’s office she was almost in tears. Everyone knew. Everyone knew what happened when Detective Rollins pissed off Lieutenant Benson. Or at least Amanda imagined everyone knew. Maybe they didn’t, because maybe she was the only one Liv punished like a little kid? She was probably just paranoid. Nobody had any idea what went on behind closed blinds and doors.

Unless they could hear it. Oh, God. That was a whole new torment to consider. Why had she knocked that girl out of her chair when she had no business even going into the interrogation room? Was it hormones making her stupid?  
  
“Shut the door.”

Amanda jumped at the sound of Olivia’s voice, startled out of her self-recrimination. She shut the door and sat in one of the chairs facing Liv’s desk, casually spearing a piece of lettuce with her fork.

To all the world, Amanda Rollins looked unbothered by the situation, but Olivia knew her well enough to know she was tied up in knots on the inside. The salad wouldn’t have come into the office with her if she wasn’t. It was a stall tactic and a shield, it was no longer Amanda’s lunch. “Put the salad down, Amanda.”

Amanda shook her head, shoveling in the bite of lettuce that was dangling from her fork. She felt like that right now – speared on a proverbial stake, dangling precariously on the edge of being eaten.

“Do you really want to make things worse?” Olivia asked, eyebrows lifting. “Put the salad down, get up out of my chair, and come here.”

“Come on, Liv,” Amanda tried, clutching the salad protectively. “Would you do this to Fin or Carisi?”

Olivia blinked, surprised at the question. “I’m not going to discuss that with you. Would you want me to discuss your discipline with them?”

“It’s not fair,” she tried again, embarrassed at the whiny quality underlying her tone but helpless to stop it.

“Amanda,” Olivia said in slight disbelief. “You agreed to leave disciplinary discretion in my hands.”

“Because your hand was down my pants!” Amanda blurted out before she could censor herself.

Olivia didn’t even dignify that with a response, she just carefully unruffled her own feathers and spoke calmly. “If I have to come get you it’ll be twice as many.”

Amanda shot to her feet and dropped the salad, moving around the desk. Tears welled in her eyes as she gave Olivia one last pleading look, but when the boss didn’t even flinch she leaned forward and braced herself on her elbows.

“Scoot back a little. Keep your stomach away from the edge,” Olivia said, mindful of the pregnancy even if it wouldn’t get Amanda a reprieve.

Amanda moved back a few inches and turned her head to wipe her eyes on her shoulder. “This isn’t fair,” she said again, though the whine had gone out of her voice and been replaced with plain old complaint.

“What’s not fair is you barging into someone else’s interrogation, knocking the suspect out of her chair, stepping on her neck and screaming at her, promising to demean her. Did I leave anything out?”

The reality of her behavior and what it could have cost the case came crashing down on Amanda and she tightened her lips into a line, shaking her head. No, Olivia hadn’t left anything out.

Olivia sighed, wishing Amanda could get a better handle on her impulse control, but the only recourse she had was punishing her detective after the fact, hoping it would make her think ahead in the future. She had tried so many times to get Amanda to see a therapist and had been met with staunch refusal, denial, or outright rage. Oh and let’s not forget the one time Amanda had taken a pot shot at her instead of the more common reactions, spouting off that she didn’t need to pay someone to listen to her problems.

Shaking it off, Olivia reached around to undo the detective’s pants and lower the zipper.

Amanda whimpered, though she’d known that was going to happen. “Liv, please,” she begged, her entire body tensing up as her slacks pooled around her ankles and Olivia tugged down her underwear. “Oh, God. Liv, please don’t. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do better next time. I don’t need a spanking like some unruly kid.”

“Apparently you do, Detective,” Olivia disagreed. “Or you wouldn’t keep making these impulsive mistakes. You’re an excellent cop. One of the best. But your quick fuse lands you in trouble more than it doesn’t. You won’t see a therapist, so this is my best option. Unless you’ve changed your mind and you’ll see someone?”

Amanda set her jaw, her vision watery, but shook her head. “No,” she said through clenched teeth. “Stop asking.”

“Then this is where we are,” Olivia said, shaking her head and opening her desk drawer.

“Yeah, this is where we are,” Amanda snapped. “Up to our eyes in bullshit.” She heard the drawer open and stiffened. “No, Liv. No no no, come on, please, Liv, Liv, Liv, you don’t need that. Not while I’m pregnant.”

“It’s a belt, Amanda, not the paddle.”

Amanda’s relief was tenuous. She wasn’t sure a belt was any better, though it was lightweight and wouldn’t make the same kind of impact as the horrifying wooden paddle Olivia kept in that drawer. “Come on Liv, someone’s gonna hear that.”

“Detective Rollins. Are you revoking your consent to our agreement?”

Amanda shifted her weight and bit her lip. “No,” she finally decided. “I just—”

“Then every word of argument from here forward is worth an extra lash.”

Amanda whimpered in defeat, tears clouding her vision again as she forced herself to accept the inevitable. “Extra on top of how many?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Jesus… finally. It always took Amanda a long time to stop putting up a fight. Olivia was pretty good at weathering the storm by now. They’d only done this a small handful of times but Amanda’s pattern was consistent. She didn’t typically back down until Liv tacked on the threat of further punishment. “Extra on top of twelve,” she said.

“Twelve?” Amanda railed. “With a belt?”

“Thirteen,” Olivia followed through with her promise.

“Olivia,” Amanda protested again, feeling backed into a corner with only bad options presented to her.

“Fourteen,” Olivia said, not giving an inch. “Now every word of argument adds five lashes. Be. Quiet.” She’d had enough.

Humiliation burned behind her eyelids and it was so, so hard to be quiet, but she clenched her teeth until her jaw ached to keep from going from fourteen to nineteen.

“Thank you,” Olivia said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’m starting now.”

Amanda tensed up even though she knew it was better to keep her muscles lax. She couldn’t help it. And when the first blow lanced across her unprotected backside her jaw came unclenched as a cry left her lips. She buried her face against her left forearm, embarrassment flaring hot on her cheeks, and she doubled her efforts to keep her mouth shut.

Olivia waited for the sting to lose its edge before gently touching Amanda’s lower back, the signal that she was going to continue.

The second lash caught her left cheek and she could feel the tip of the belt dig deeper than the rest, a fierce sting blooming right next to her asshole. She clamped her teeth around her wrist, biting down to keep her pained cry from escaping. She almost wished Liv would just give her all the lashes at once, but she knew this wasn’t just physical warfare, it was psychological, and making her wait and reflect on her situation between strokes was a calculated move. And she hated that Liv knew her well enough to know what kind of move to make.

The third lash caught her other cheek, the tip leaving a fiercer sting slightly below her hip. A few tears forced their way past tightly closed eyelids and slid down her face as she took the punishment with as much dignity as possible.

Olivia wished with all her heart that Amanda would break down and talk to her. She’d stop the punishment before its intended conclusion if that happened, but it hadn’t happened before and she doubted it would happen now no matter how hard she wished.

She rubbed Amanda’s back for a minute and then touched her gently, giving her a second to prepare before she delivered the fourth strike, the sound of leather on flesh echoing around the office. Amanda’s backside was striped red already with only a few strips of pale flesh unmarked. She aimed the fifth stroke at one untouched area, swishing the belt down hard, guilt wringing air out of her lungs as she watched Amanda jump, the detective’s shoulders beginning to shake with tears.

Olivia actually laid down six and seven relatively consecutively and Amanda couldn’t hold in her anguished cry. She turned her head to the other side and bit her right wrist, tears now streaming down her face unchecked and pooling on the polished wood of Olivia’s desk. She could hear Olivia moving and sense the lieutenant had switched sides. She was right because the next blow came from a backhand and the tip dug into the inside of her right cheek, once again close to her asshole, and that stung like hell.

That was only eight. She had six more to go. She wasn’t sure she would be able to handle it… and she was right. The eleventh lash broke the dam and she was sobbing over the desk, begging Olivia to stop, dignity be damned. “Please, Liv, please, I’m sorry! Please stop, stop, I’ll behave, I’ll talk to you, I—I—I—” She was crying too hard to keep talking, and to her surprise she heard the belt buckle clink against the floor, followed by the thud of the leather hitting after it. Olivia had actually stopped? She couldn’t believe it. She ran over her own words in her mind and when she realized she’d promised to talk, she gave a heaving sob. That’s why Olivia stopped and if she didn’t want the last three lashes she would have to keep that promise.

Olivia was stunned speechless and she just stood there with empty hands for a few seconds before she kicked into action, rubbing Amanda’s back, occasionally straying to run her fingers through the detective’s sweaty hair.

Eventually she pulled up Amanda’s panties, that guilt twisting through her again at the pained cry as she did so. She bent down to gather the detective’s slacks, buttoning and zipping them for her. “Come here,” she whispered, hoping she wouldn’t be rejected despite Amanda’s promise to let her in.

Amanda turned toward Olivia. The idea of allowing herself to be enveloped in strong, comforting arms passed through her mind and she started to lean forward, but anger and uncertainty reared its ugly head and she snarled at the lieutenant instead. “Don’t touch me,” she snapped, turning and leaving the office, slamming the door behind her.

Olivia blinked and was stunned into inaction for several long seconds before she strode to the door and opened it. “Rollins, back in my office.”

“I have work to do,” Amanda said, grabbing her keys off her desk.

“No, you don’t. Fin, Carisi, go pick up Lilah. Rollins, you’re benched until further notice.”

Amanda tried to hold it in. She tried, tried, tried; pushed the rage down; tried not to let it boil over. But it did. “Who the FUCK do you think you are?!” she shouted, picking up her desk chair and swinging it hard enough into her drawers that it dented the metal before she dropped it.

Olivia’s eyes widened, watching the action play out, and before Fin or Carisi could step in she closed the distance between herself and Amanda, grabbing the detective by the back of the neck. She held Rollins firm while she looked at the other two. “I said go pick up Lilah.” Her voice was calm, belying the explosive turmoil on the inside.

Without waiting for Fin and Carisi to vacate the squad room, she bent the struggling detective over her dented desk and held her there.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” Amanda spat, trying to lift up but Olivia’s hold was too strong and Liv had the better leverage.

“Don’t make me cuff you and throw you in the cage,” Olivia whispered.

That just made Amanda angrier, her adrenaline spiking hard enough for her to throw Olivia off balance and knock the lieutenant backward. She spun on the reeling lieutenant and screamed in her face. “FUCK YOU, LIV! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!”

As Amanda’s fists came toward her, Olivia grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her arms, slapping cuffs on when Amanda wouldn’t stop fighting. Fin and Carisi were gone but everyone else was staring at them, a universal tension in the room like she had seldom felt before. She manhandled Amanda back into her office and kicked the door shut, then threw her down on the sofa.

Amanda yelped as her still blazing backside hit the couch and she lost her own balance for a second before she tried to get up. It was difficult with her hands cuffed behind her back and her pregnant-ass belly, and finally she gave up, dissolving into sobs.

Olivia couldn’t handle seeing Amanda so upset no matter what the blonde had just done to her – the sobs pierced her chest and tugged at her heart. She wanted so badly for Amanda to let her close. She’d been told _she_ played it close to the vest, but she had nothing on Amanda Rollins. Amanda was titanium.

Amanda couldn’t even hide her face in her hands so she just turned it to the side, staring at the wall behind Liv’s desk as she sat there crying brokenly.

Olivia crouched down and leaned forward so she could reach the cuffs, unlocking them and putting them back on her belt, keeping Amanda’s hands gripped in one of hers to avoid being punched in the face. She didn’t think that was still where Amanda was at, but just in case. “Talk to me,” she begged in a whisper. “Please.”

Amanda leaned forward and buried her face in Liv’s neck, her resistance shot. “I’m sorry,” she cried, her voice a complete mess.

Olivia almost didn’t dare to breathe when Amanda sought physical comfort, afraid it was too good to be true, but when she got the apology along with the contact she released Amanda’s wrists and put her arms around the detective, slowly moving to sit on the sofa before she tightened her hold. “It’s okay,” she promised, clinging to Amanda almost as hard as Amanda was clinging to her.

“I hate weak women,” Amanda finally confessed after a long, long time of just crying and letting Olivia hold her. “Especially ones that let a man control their lives. It burns me from the inside out, Liv; it gnaws at my _soul_.”

Olivia started gently rubbing her back. “Women like Gina and Lilah,” she said in understanding.

“And my mother,” Amanda added. “Of course that’s where it started. Everything always starts with a family member. She just let my dad beat the shit out of her. Never stood up for herself. I hated her, Liv. A deep, festering hate that intertwined with the fabric of who I _am_. Even now, I still hate her.”

“She’s never given you a reason to change your opinion,” Olivia guessed. “Do you hate your father?”

Amanda snorted derisively. “No.” She paused, then sighed. “I am one fucked up specimen, Lieu. I think if she would have left him the first time he beat her… I’d have hated him instead of her.”

Liv nodded. “The old ‘fool me once’ adage,” she said.

“I’m sorry I let my personal baggage affect my job performance,” Rollins said after another few minutes enjoying Liv’s embrace and the gentle hand sliding up and down her back. “I’ll do better.”

“I have an idea,” Olivia said suddenly. “A way we can make our personal biases have less power over us.” The wheels were turning.

Amanda was intrigued and she sniffed a few times to clear her sinuses and then picked up her head, staying firmly put in Olivia’s arms, however. “Yeah?”

“Every case we work, we have a sit down once a day. We can do it one of two ways. One, we go around the table and list any parallels between the case and our personal experiences, or if people aren’t comfortable sharing like that, we do it anonymously on paper.”

Now Amanda was even more intrigued. “What’s that gonna look like?” she asked, starting to forget how miserable she was feeling.

“Say for this case we had all sat down this morning and I’d asked everyone if they had any personal experience with the subject matter. You could have told us up front that women who let men control their lives are a sore spot with you. You could tell us why or not, but at least we’d have the information on hand so we could have your back. I could have stood with you outside Gina’s interrogation and stopped you from going in. Being blind to the way our lives color our perception of a case keeps us at a disadvantage.”

“This is your way of tricking me into therapy,” Amanda said, but she didn’t really mean it. She offered a smile and tucked her head back against Olivia’s neck. “No, really though, I like the idea. It’s smart.”

“I’m glad that’s settled. Now what do you suggest I do about your property damage, insubordination and attempted assault of your CO?”

Amanda’s face turned bright red and she clenched her thighs against the nervous energy suddenly filling her body. “Maybe you understand I was distressed and acknowledge the mitigating circumstances?” she tried. “I’m sorry, Liv,” she said when Liv didn’t respond. “I’m really, really sorry. I was fighting against myself and you were in the line of fire. You didn’t deserve my attitude.”

Amanda’s apology threatened to melt Olivia completely. “There has to be a consequence,” she said before she could convince herself to let it slide just based on the fact that Amanda had said she was sorry. She felt the detective stiffen and turned her head to press her lips to Amanda’s temple, hoping to forestall any further upset.

Amanda gasped at the unexpected feel of Olivia’s lips on her skin. “Are you manipulating me with that mouth?” she breathed. “Distracting me so I won’t pitch another fit?”

“Is it working?” Her lips trailed down the side of Amanda’s face to the corner of her mouth. She knew it was inappropriate but she’d wanted another night with Amanda ever since their standalone indiscretion almost a year ago. They had both agreed it couldn’t happen again and Olivia was cursing herself for giving in to temptation, but with Amanda literally in her lap, snuggled up to her, it was impossible to resist.

“Is what working?” Amanda murmured, letting her eyes drift closed, savoring the moment that Olivia Benson lost her self-control. She couldn’t believe Liv was the one to give in first. She’d always thought it would be her, given their track records and personalities. The fact that it was Liv crossing the very clear line they’d drawn in the sand was mind blowing. She held rigidly still despite her sudden relaxed state of being, wanting Liv to firmly plant both feet over the line before she gave in. So she didn’t turn her head. Didn’t offer her mouth.

“That’s a yes,” Olivia murmured back, chasing Amanda’s lips until she closed her mouth fully over them, aware she was violating every boundary they’d fiercely erected around themselves but helpless to stop. One hand came up to cradle the back of Amanda’s head, holding her gently in place.

Amanda didn’t open her mouth until Olivia’s tongue snaked along her bottom lip and pressed against her teeth. The moment Liv’s tongue touched hers she gave up the façade of aloofness and moaned into the kiss.

Olivia’s hand was poised to slip under Amanda’s sweater, fingers already tugging on the hem when a knock sounded at the door. They both groaned quietly and Amanda moved off of her lap. “Yeah?” she called, standing from the couch, hands shoved casually in the pockets of her slacks.

Fin came in with Lilah in tow. “Where do you want me to put ‘er?” he asked, his eyes slanting toward the floor beside her desk.

Without turning her head, Olivia knew exactly what had caught his attention. “Interrogation two,” she said, trying to ignore the elephant in the room.

“Might want to clean up your office you don’t want Carisi askin’ questions,” he said, nodding toward the belt and pulling the door shut behind him as he left with the suspect.

Amanda was about ready to crawl into a hole somewhere. “Oh my God.”

Even Olivia felt a blush tint her cheeks and she looked sheepishly at the floor, biting her lip. “It’s Fin. He won’t say anything.”

“Not to you,” Amanda whined. “Next time we’re alone, I’m gonna hear it.”

Liv chuckled and walked over to pick up the belt, stowing it safely away in her desk drawer where it belonged.

“So I’m guessing you want me to sit this one out?” Amanda shifted the conversation back to business.

“How about we let Fin and Carisi question her while you and I keep trying to find evidence to make this stick.”

***

After they wrapped up the case, Amanda stayed late to finish up the paperwork, and when she looked around and found herself alone in the squad room with Fin, she straightened up her desk and grabbed her coat, intending to leave before he had a chance to interrogate her.

“Amanda,” Fin called, halting her retreat.

She stopped, cursed under her breath, and turned. “Yeah?”

“Liv spank you with that belt?” He was never one to mince words.

“Jesus, Fin,” Amanda said with a blush, running a hand through her hair and cutting her eyes away from his squinty stare.

“Take that as a yes,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “You okay wit’ that?”

Once she realized he wasn’t going to tease her and was genuinely looking out for her she gave him a sheepish smile. “Ain’t my favorite,” she said honestly, “but it was grudgingly consensual. She would never, you know that.”

“Jus’ checkin’,” Fin said, nodding at her as he grabbed his own coat. “Night, Amanda.”

At the last second she darted over and hugged him. “Thanks, Fin. For having my back. Like you always do.”

“And always will,” Fin said, returning the hug before they headed out the doors.


End file.
